


What's In A Name?

by JetCannon



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Interspecies Romance, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetCannon/pseuds/JetCannon
Summary: A short conversation, followed by a longer one. Some quiet contemplation of the finer things in life.
Relationships: Judy Hopps/Nick Wilde
Comments: 20
Kudos: 37





	What's In A Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome: to my first posting on this site, to my first Zootfic, and indeed to the first thing I've felt in a position to publish for others' consumption for some years!
> 
> I'm expecting this story to have ~3 chapters, probably all around the same length but not something I'm holding myself to. At time of posting the first chapter (11/Nov/20) I have a good idea for the contents of chapter 2 as well as some parts written, and some thoughts for the third. I will try my very hardest to get these written up without too much delay, but I'm not going to hold myself to a particular schedule as I fear I would miss it! XD
> 
> You may not find this story especially unique or original, indeed the first chapter in particular is quite strongly influenced by a few other fics (see if you can spot the references), but I'm considering it an achievement for the simple fact that I've finally bloody written something again and I've had fun doing it. I have the basic concept of a sequel in mind which might hopefully be a tad bit more _different,_ but we'll burn that bridge when we put all our eggs under a ladder.
> 
> I'll be posting this to [Fanfiction.net](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/12561718/) as well if you'd prefer to check it there. If anyone really wants then you can feel free to check out my older, MLP fics at [FIMFiction.net](https://www.fimfiction.net/user/42285/Jet+Cannon) as well (like, if you really want).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a short conversation has a great deal going on in the moments between the words.

“Hey, uh, Judy?”

 _That_ got her attention, alright.

Nick had told her once that, for him (and if he was to be believed, for foxes in general), nicknames were something of a _modus operandi_ when talking to others. Judy was somewhat skeptical of this claim, both in regards to other foxes (although she had to admit, her experience with them was still rather limited) _and_ in regards to Nick himself. Granted, it had at first _seemed_ to ring true for Nick, at least; but part of being a good police officer was being able to pick up on behavioural patterns, and Judy had noticed several details about the ways in which he actually interacted with other mammals which further cemented her skepticism.

He certainly did _use_ nicknames, and for quite a lot of mammals. What was most important about these nicknames, Judy had learned, was the sentiment attached to them; beyond that, they didn’t have to be anything particularly interesting or imaginative, nor were they generally applied to any particular mammal over another, nor was there any requirement to exclusively refer to someone by the one nickname only, or indeed _only_ by nickname.

There were two particularly good examples of these wildly fluctuating habits, one of whom was Nick’s friend and former hustling partner, Finnick. The diminutive fennec fox was often referred to simply as _“Finn”_ , which barely qualified as a nickname by any mammal’s standards, and Nick seemed just as likely to use the smaller mammal’s full name whatever the circumstances. And notably, Finnick himself never seemed particularly inclined towards nicknames, despite being a fox. That the two foxes were genuinely bosom buddies, even with their shared habit of nigh-relentlessly teasing and insulting each other, was in no doubt however, thanks to some of the two’s more lengthy interactions which Judy had been privy to.

On the complete opposite end of the scale was none other than Judy herself, whom Nick addressed almost exclusively by nicknames. _“Carrots”_ featured most prominently, and was the go-to choice for most situations. _“Fluff”_ was largely reserved for more serious, dare she say “softer” moments between the two. _“Cottontail”_ , _“Toot Toot”_ , and even _“Jude the Dude”_ (her father was dead to her, now) were also occasionally thrown in for good measure during their playful back-and-forths, plus assorted throwaway names to suit whatever whimsy Nick felt at the time. It had got to the point where, _mostly_ humorously, she had asked whether he had forgotten her _real_ name altogether; and although he had laughed along with her at the ridiculous notion, there was a curious look in his eyes which she only just caught before he hid them behind his sunglasses…

Sentiment-wise, all of Nick’s names for Judy had of course begun as patronising insults intended to demean her, showing the newly-fledged rabbit cop just how much he thought of her and her do-gooder self. Subsequently, following the _surprising_ and _exciting_ events which threw the pair together, they seemed to organically morph into his own, personalised terms of endearment for her. He had been keen to ensure that she actually appreciated them, of course, considering their original intent, and had made it a point to ask her opinion of them a short time after Mayor Bellwether had been arrested. Teasing and bantering between friends was all well and good, after all, but he didn’t want to call his dearest friend hurtful names.

Judy had assured him, however, that she had no problem with them now. Admittedly, she _had_ been just as annoyed by the names at first as Nick had intended, but as time went by it was clear that he no longer meant them as insults, and she _had_ actually begun to find them strangely endearing (despite their potential to be taken the wrong way by other rabbits), so they were allowed to carry on. She, in turn, had continued to call Nick _“Slick”_ on occasion, although not so religiously. And of course _this_ had then been questioned by _her_ to ensure that _she_ was not accidentally insulting _him_ by not reciprocating to the same degree; but once more this was confirmed to be not only absolutely fine, but far preferable to her trying to force things in a well-intentioned but misguided attempt to make him feel comfortable.

And so the two had fallen into an easy rhythm as far as names were concerned, whatever her own suspicions were regarding their usage, a rhythm which had just been thrown out of kilter following Nick calling her _“Judy”_ as they sat in their favoured, out of the way booth in their favoured, quiet little diner one evening, sharing dinner after their shift had ended.

In the space of a second, as the tinny but cheerful old-timey jukebox music and the low hum of other customers’ conversations seemed to fade away, Judy focussed her attention solely on the red fox sitting across the table from her, and read him as best she could.

Nicholas Piberius Wilde. A noteworthy fox if ever there was one, in her humble opinion (sample size notwithstanding). He didn’t give her the best first impression (for that matter, neither did she to him), but oh, how he had made up for it since. From defending her against Chief Bogo when he demanded her badge, to refusing to abandon her when Bellwether and her cronies had them cornered in the museum, and everything else in between and since, Nick had (begrudgingly, at times) shown her what a wonderful mammal he could be. Charming and witty, brave and determined, loyal and kind...

And currently, nervous. To the outside observer, cool and collected Slick Nick was sat across from Judy with all of his usual confidence. To a Nick Wilde expert like Judy, however, a few of the tod’s tells were plainly obvious. His eyes were flicking back and forth between her and their surroundings, and they were open just a bit wider than when he was calm. His schooled “calm” face was also slightly more severe in expression than true calm, as though he were very slightly annoyed about something. And her excellent hearing could quite easily pick up on his increased heart rate, which if anything was shifting from _nervous_ into _panicked._

She’d need to be careful with this. Giving him a sweet smile (a simple task, as she most often felt like smiling when she looked at him), she asked:

“Yes, Nick? What’s up?”

He actually paused for a moment, apparently realising, with a visible flash of discomfort, that _yes_ , he had in fact spoken, and now needed to form a follow-up sentence. Whatever he had to say was clearly important, but despite the leaps and bounds the poor guy had made in learning to express himself, one didn’t simply overcome a lifetime of putting up barriers in the space of a few months.

_Never let them see that they get to you._

She could see the battle raging inside his head between the need to speak up, and the familiar safety of hiding behind his hustler’s mask, of brushing it off as nothing, and the hustler was winning. Judy, however, was committed to helping him break down those walls. So she, touchy-feely, overly emotional rabbit that she was, carefully reached out a paw and placed it gently atop his own on the table.

The fox’s vivid green eyes snapped to their paws, before locking with her own eyes. Judy poured as much strength and comfort into the simple gesture as she could, brushing her thumb across the back of his paw soothingly, and holding his gaze. Her smile became smaller, more serious, but it stayed on her muzzle nevertheless.

_It’s ok. I’m here for you. Take your time._

Nick, as he often did in such moments, looked mildly poleaxed, the irrational shame of allowing his “weakness” to show through warring with the rational knowledge that Judy would _never_ do anything to hurt him. Eventually, the hoped-for conclusion was reached.

“Boy oh boy,” Nick joked hoarsely, briefly wiping his free thumb beneath his eyes with a watery grin, “you’d think the staff would know not to cut onions outside the kitchen, huh, Carrots?” Judy giggled, Nick chuckled, and a few moments later he turned his tabled paw the other way up to grasp her own in a light squeeze.

“Thanks, Fluff,” he said, quietly.

“Any time, Slick.” She let them sit like that for a bit, because holding his paw was nice, before continuing:

“I think you wanted to ask me something?”

“Yeah, right.” He paused again, collecting himself. Their paws remained on the table together, he absentmindedly brushing hers with _his_ thumb, now. She wasn’t worried about him clamming up again, they were past that for the evening. He just needed time to calmly ( _actually_ calmly) put his thoughts in order, time Judy would gladly give him. It gave her the opportunity to reflect on the previous occasions where he had bucked the trend and not used a nickname when addressing her.

For reasons still known only to himself, Nick hardly ever called her _“Judy”._ As stated, he had claimed it was because he, as a fox, was culturally inclined towards nicknames, _but!_ As previously indicated, Judy didn’t think this was the case. Rather than outright calling his bluff with the substantial evidence against it, however, she had played along to wait for the right moment, not wanting to spook him. With just how extreme the situation was in regards to herself, it had probably been the right call.

In all the time they had known each other, which amounted to just over a year, Nick had now called Judy by name on a grand total of just _five_ occasions, discounting formally referring to her as _“Officer Hopps”_ during their police work.

First, as she had learned during a later conversation, had been after they escaped the Cliffside Asylum through their creative use of the plumbing. She had caught a glimpse of his facial expression as she surfaced, but Judy had still been touched to learn from him directly that Nick had felt such concern for her, even at that early point in their friendship, that he had feared for her life when he was first to surface below the falls, had called out for her, and had been on the verge of diving down to try and save her when she finally emerged.

The second was when he had asked about the nicknames. It was probably their first serious, private conversation about everything that they had been through in relation to Bellwether’s plot. The nickname question was but one part of the wider discussion, which also included Judy reaffirming her belief in Nick’s potential as a police officer and his agreeing to submit his application, which would be just on time for the next intake at the academy. Incidentally, they both got rather drunk that night and ended up passing out side by side on Nick’s old, threadbare couch. The hangover had been worth the bonding time.

The third was during another such private conversation, when he had come home for the holidays whilst at the academy. They had kept in contact as much as was possible, given the restrictions placed on recruits to avoid their being distracted, but actually talking face to face with each other was _far_ superior to short phone calls. There had been a great deal of pent up emotional baggage for them both to get through, Nick especially, focussing a lot on their own self-doubt and self-worth, or lack thereof. Sad as it was at the time, Judy’s warmest memory of the day found Nick lying with his head in her lap, as she stroked his head, scratched his ears, and simply listened to his problems. He’d tearfully admitted that it was the first time anyone had just held him like that since he had left home as a kit. Judy’s heart had broken for him, but she viewed it as progress. She’d extracted a promise from the fox to always come and speak to her if he ever needed a shoulder to cry on, after which it had only seemed appropriate to place a soothing kiss upon his troubled brow.

Fourth had been when he graduated. After the speeches were done and the parties were over and they found themselves by themselves at the end of the night, he had hugged her close outside his apartment and thanked her for turning his life around. The hug had lasted for longer than she had expected it to, Nick apparently in no greater a hurry to relinquish his hold than she was, and Judy had found herself quite enjoying the unusually _intimate_ embrace. Her face had snuggled into his chest (now firmer and more well-defined, courtesy of his intensive police training), her nostrils had been filled by his heady, musky scent (only made stronger by the whole day's worth of activity), and suddenly Judy had found her little heart all aflutter within her ribcage, and some decidedly impure thoughts pinging around through her brain. The quick kiss he had placed upon her cheek, and the accompanying “Goodnight, Judy,” as they went their separate ways, had left her silently reeling and extremely grateful for the blush-hiding dark of the evening. Up until that point, she had somehow not noticed (or rather, had studiously ignored) a now undeniable fact: Nick was not simply a fox, he was a _boy_ fox. A _handsome_ and _sweet_ boy fox. And quite without meaning to, she had become devastatingly smitten with him. The only thing she could think as she blearily wound her way home was _“Uh oh...”_

And now, number five: two weeks into their work partnership, sitting down at dinner. The pair had yet to get over the novelty factor of finally working together as police officers, but the rapport they had built outside of work had, so far, translated well into the professional setting. That particular day itself had been pretty standard fare, however, and nothing greatly exciting or noteworthy had occurred whilst out on their beat. Nothing Judy could identify had happened to warrant the name use. The reason, then, existed solely within the fox’s head; it was fortunate that the rabbit knew that head rather well…

Judy had kept a close eye on Nick for the majority of the time they had known each other, for a number of reasons. As the senior partner (even if she held no greater rank, and was still quite a junior officer herself), she felt responsible for aiding in Nick’s professional development, especially at this early stage in his career. As his closest friend, she was absolutely dedicated to supporting her best friend’s emotional well-being, helping him be the best mammal he could be. And (somewhat more recently), as she was crushing on him, bad, she had been trying to determine whether the feeling may be mutual.

She had learned the hard way in the past that she couldn’t ignore the way she felt about something; she had to face it down and deal with it, eventually at least, or it would negatively affect everything she did. Her position of trust in the ZPD demanded nothing short of her best, there were mammals counting on her to keep them safe, and she could not give her best with her head (or heart) all muddled. She’d need to speak with Nick about it at some point, for the sake of her own emotional health. Plus, frankly, after everything she had done to get to where she was, everything she had been through to save the city from evil, Judy thought she deserved to indulge in her feelings a bit.

Long story short, she was quietly confident that her favourite fox was quite likely to indulge her.

“Anyway.” At last Nick was ready, and Judy smiled attentively. He hadn’t thought to release her paw, still absentmindedly stroking it as he was, and Judy wasn’t about to remind him. Honestly it was probably helping him, too, judging from his easy smile. There was a special twinkle in his eyes when he _really_ smiled which was absent from his hustler grins, or at least, there was when he smiled at _her_. Come to think of it, the twinkle wasn’t too dissimilar to that look he had when she’d joked about him forgetting her name…

“I was thinking to myself that, hey, it’s been crazy just getting used to this new routine, and the procedures, and the paperwork - my _God_ , the paperwork…” His free paw flew to his forehead dramatically as he swooned backwards in his seat, and Judy couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“Seriously, Carrots, if I realised just how mountainous the pile of paperwork I’d have to do every day would be, all the minutiae it involves, then I might just have stayed under that damn bridge…” Judy knew he had an actual apartment to live in, and as best she could tell (having visited it several times) he had been living there for some time; but she strongly suspected that he had indeed called the space beneath the bridge she had found him by “home” for a while, earlier in his life. The whole _“literal and emotional squalor”_ speech seemed a little too specific, given the belongings he apparently kept there. That was a conversation for another time, however.

“But yeah, I was wondering if, assuming you aren’t busy doing whatever bunny stuff a bunny does on their time off, you might want to come over to Maison du Wilde, hang out on the couch, commit pizza-and-beericide over bad movies, that kind of thing? Take a load off for a while with the coolest fox in Zootopia, what do you say?” It was a very good performance, he had mastered the art of playing it cool. The fact that it didn’t match up with the emotions from a few moments ago had apparently escaped his notice, or he was hoping they had escaped _her_ notice, one of the two.

_Are you asking me out on a date, Nick?_

Judy decided, trying her best to not quiver excitedly at the possibility, to let him get away with it for now. He had likely used up his readily available quota of undisguised emotion for the evening, anything else would be far less controlled and much more comfortably confined to one or other of their homes. So rather than prod, she simply nodded once and said:

“Ok!”

“O-ok?” The mask slipped for a second before it was hastily hoisted back into place, letting loose just a glimpse of hopeful disbelief.

“Mhm, ok!” she repeated, smiling brightly.

“Well ok, then!” A sliver of excitement peeked out through the barricades, but Judy caught it easily enough. “So, Friday suit you? Say around seven, give us both time to wash off the smell of the precinct before it infects my sofa?”

Doing her best to keep the mischief out of her smile, she finally unclasped their paws and playfully punched him on the shoulder.

“It’s a date!” she said, and then studiously went back to her food, pretending not to notice that Nick froze in place for several seconds, or that he started to blush so severely that she could see it through his fur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References Check!
> 
> Foxes using nicknames being par-for-the-course is referring to [The Neverwere Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1260977) by 6WingDragon. Goddamn fabulous stories, although I've turned the nickname thing on its head here somewhat! ;)
> 
> Nick being comforted to such a degree by Judy is inspired by, albeit without referencing any specific scenes, Safe Paws by Midnight Opheliac. Lovely fluffy story, totes emosh, not linking directly though because it gets a little... _spicy,_ at points...
> 
> And then the whole "uh oh" thing as Judy snuggles into Nick's chest is pretty directly lifted from The Savage Dark by Kulkum. Action, drama, conspiracy, oh my! Plus, yeah, _pretty_ spicy, so again not linking directly.
> 
> So yeah. Didja love it? Didja hate it? Would it have been the best damn WildeHopps opening you've ever read if 50 bajillion other damn shippers hadn't got there first? (Let's face it, probably not.) Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease tell me what you think!


End file.
